Welcome Home
by Valiant Flower
Summary: A young dryad is killed and meets Aslan. She realizes that she has to make a very important decision before she can enter into Aslan's country.


A one-shot that came to me last night and it drove me crazy until I finally wrote it down. =P

It is meant to be symbolic of abortion.

The whole beginning part is completely made up. I don't know if it's true or not. =/

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A young Narnian tree starts its life by just being. They can't move or speak. They are completely helpless until they are two feet tall, when they can move. The only exceptions are if the tree doesn't grow quickly enough. For those, they could move after eight months, because that is the general amount of time that most trees take to become a dryad. (They must grow rather slowly so that they live longer.)

This particular tree, however, didn't have the chance to become a tree spirit. She was cut down by Telmarines under the idea of overpopulation in the forests. In reality, they didn't want the trees to rebel against them. Quite a few young trees were killed in this way. But it is this one's whose story we'll follow.

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This tree's name was Brynn. She was about three months old and almost a foot tall. Her parents came to see her in the clearing every day, and they'd talk to her and tell her stories. She tried to show that she loved them back, but because she couldn't move or speak, things became difficult.

The Telmarines invaded Narnia. When they were settled, the idea of overpopulation came into being. The loggers went to the forests and killed the trees that could not move yet. The idea was that because they didn't move or speak, and the dryads weren't able to be seen, they weren't trees. They were just little weeds.

Brynn was not a weed and she knew it. She was just a small tree. When the big man appeared in front of her one night, she was scared. What was he doing here? He kept looking around nervously, the shiny metal axe glinting in the moonlight.

Her dream was to become the most well-known tree in the forest, even if she was small. Her parents had told her about the Telmarine invasion, and she was going to be the dryad to stop them. Single handedly, maybe!

What better time to get in practice than when one was right in front of her? In her mind, she drew herself up to her full height of nine inches and told him (in her head) to go away, because Narnia was not theirs, the creatures were here first!

Warming into her silent speech, she imagined herself going on to tell him that not only was he going against the Narnians, but he was going against _Aslan_! Aslan didn't want him to take over, and-

There was a sharp pain in her head. She felt nothing else.

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When Brynn woke up, she saw a lion. _The _lion.

"Aslan!" she shrieked, happy that her voice finally worked, though wondering where she was, because a moment ago, she had been in the clearing. Now she was in a green field and it was daytime.

The lion smiled at her, and she grinned up at him. Knowing that he loved her from the stories that her parents told, she jumped on his huge paw. He gave a lion version of a laugh and looked down at her.

"Dear one," was all he said at first, and she felt that it was her turn to speak.

"Where am I?" she asked looking around the field again from her point against his body. "Where's Mummy and Daddy?"

"They are back in the forest. Watch," he said gently, and the scene changed.

She was back in the forest. Her parents came into the clearing, like they did every day. This time, something had changed. Her mother screamed and ran to the center of the circle of grass. Brynn shrank back into Aslan's body. She had never seen her mother in this state and it scared her.

As she watched, her mum sank to her knees in front of a small stick. "No!" she said into her hands. Her father came up behind her mother and put his hand on her shoulder. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Brynn turned back to Aslan, but he wasn't there. She looked around, but all she saw was the trees and the darkness of the forest.

Thoroughly terrified by this point, she ran to her mother and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Mummy? What's wrong?"

Her mother didn't answer. It was as if she didn't hear.

"Daddy?"

Brynn finally followed their line of vision to the stick.

"My baby's dead!" her mother wailed, holding the stick in her hands.

_It's me! _Brynn realized with a shock. _They think I'm dead!_

"I'm not dead, Mummy, really! See?" she said.

When her mummy didn't look up, she decided something was wrong.

It got worse when the other dryads stepped out of their trees and began murmuring to each other. They looked sad and angry.

"Hullo? I'm not dead!" Brynn screamed, and still, nobody acknowledged her.

"Aslan!" she whispered. "I wanna go home."

There was a rush in her head and she was back in the field. Aslan was there.

"Am I really dead?" she asked softly.

The way he looked at her told her that yes, she was dead.

"How?" she asked.

"Look," Aslan said again. Sighing, she turned to where he was showing her.

She could see the clearing again, but it was night. Her small tree was back up, and a tall man came toward it.

She turned to Aslan, "Who's he? Why's his skin such a funny color?"

He turned to look at her, and she knew that he wanted her to watch.

Biting her lip, she looked back toward the man in front of the sapling. As she watched, he took out the shiny metal thing from before. She was still wondering what it was when she saw him lift it, swing it, and the top of the little tree fell with a _thud_ to the ground.

Her jaw dropped. She knew that the tree was hers.

"He…he killed me! That man killed me!"

She launched herself at Aslan and buried her face in his mane, repeating over and over, "He killed me! I'm _dead_!"

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Brynn didn't know how long it had been that she sat there curled up against Aslan, crying, but eventually she stopped. She looked up at Aslan and asked, "Why? Why'd he kill me?"

"We never know each other's thoughts, dear one."

She looked back at the ground.

"Why was his skin a different color?" she asked, because her own skin had tint of green.

"He is from a different land than you are," Aslan explained.

"Can I see it?"

The lion laughed again, "Not yet."

"Oh," hr face fell, "Have you been there?"

"I have," Aslan said.

"What's it like?" she asked, jumping up and down.

"It is quite a bit like your own country, dear one. It has trees, and streams, and stones, and-"

"Are dryads there, too? Because if there are, I'd wonder why he'd kill us and not them," Brynn said solemnly, and then launched into another question, "Where are we, Aslan?"

"We are in a place between my country and yours."

"What's it called?"

"It has no name, for there are none who inhabit it."

She stomped her foot, "Then why are we here?"

"We are here to address a matter of great importance if you are to come into my country."

"What?"

As an answer, Aslan rumbled, "Come."

"Where?"

"Climb on my back, and you shall see," he said with a laugh.

When Aslan ran, it was like running through time itself to Brynn, though she couldn't put words to the feeling. He ran to fast and softly, the trees were a blur of green and brown that morphed into the blue of the sky for an interesting effect. The color she saw was a mixture of blue, green, and brown, but with different textures. She felt like the world was spinning, but wasn't scared. Only the weakest and strongest could be scared while they were near Aslan.

When the ground was finally solid again, they were in a different place entirely. Now they were on a hill, and before them were gold gates with what seemed to be a garden inside. She ran forward, but Aslan stopped her with a gentle paw.

"Now, the question. Think carefully on your answer, for it determines your destiny."

"Alright," she said nervously, thinking that the question would be a hard one.

"Do you forgive your killer?"

She was taken aback, "Aslan?"

He repeated the question.

She prepared herself to say yes automatically, and then stopped herself after seeing the look in his eyes. It was a look of almost reproach, sadness, and hope.

"I think so?" she said, hoping it was the right answer.

"Do you truly?" he asked, and she almost cried at the look in his eyes.

"Why? Why does it matter?" she sobbed.

"Because if you do not, you are no better than they. Trying for revenge will only lead to more killing and pain," a new voice broke in. Brynn turned and saw another dryad. Another girl, barely older than she herself was.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Alissia speaks the truth, Brynn. Violence only leads to more violence."

"Well, my answer is yes!"

"Is it truly?" Aslan asked again.

She thought some more. The man had killed her. Even if he was a good man in all, he still killed her. Maybe he didn't deserve forgiveness…he _was_ a murderer after all…

"I forgive him," she said with difficulty.

The dryad, Alissia, broke into a huge smile. Aslan's eyes were filled with pride and happiness now.

The gates before her opened. Brynn's small mouth dropped open.

"Welcome home, Brynn."

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I can't get Aslan-speech right! I'm sorry!

Please review and help me get better!


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